And He Would Live
by UsagiChan22
Summary: He would live for the meek morning sun, the breeze in the grass, and the occasional and fleeting recollection of a bushy redhead with the brightest smile and the most sincere laugh. He would live for the memory of who made his life worth living in the first place.


**A/N – Jeez! I don't know what it is with me and funeral fics. I was listening to True Light (Piano Version) when I wrote this so I guess it's to be expected. I promise my next piece will be much more upbeat, not all angsty. XD I wrote this to experiment with how I would write a crying scene and to see if I could explain someone's emotions clearly.**

** Again, I just want to say that I always try my best to make my stories interesting and well written. I really appreciate constructive feedback in any form! I hope you enjoy.**

***~And He Would Live~***

The hands of night had long since gripped the sun, pulling it down below the horizon and allowing its gentle sister moon to replace its luminance in the sky. The stars, a million little pin prick eyes in the sky, gazed down at the quiet world. Their twinkling light revealed a lone man, no older then 19, wandering down the sidewalk of a once busy city now quieted in slumber.

He was dressed in black, effectively camouflaging him and wrapping him in night, save for his ice blue hair that glittered on the backdrop like hope glitters in the heart of a dying man. This lone traveler, though, saw none of the beauty of the night around him, none of its peace. His mind was preoccupied by previous events. Events of a sadder nature. Events of coffins and tears and final goodbyes and the bright red head of his best friend that was never to be seen again.

He reached the front of his apartment complex, fumbling with the key in his jacket pocket before managing to open the door. He walked down the hallway, running his hand along the wall listlessly as he went, counting the doors until he reached the one he was looking for.

With a second key he opened the door to his personal apartment. Once inside, he quickly undid his restricting neck tie, the black satin snake that had been choking him since early in the evening. However, the constricted feeling in his throat did not go away with the removal of his tie. If anything it grew as he took in his surroundings; the white walls, the emptiness, the single photograph on a side table of two high school boys with hair colors in blinding contrast with each other. The tightness in his throat rose and rose until he finally thought he would suffocate for he has never experienced such a feeling before…

And then he cried. Clutched his sides and sunk to the floor, back sliding down the sterile white wall. Sobs he had been holding back all evening tore through his throat, complimented by the repressed wails of years gone by, pulling at his vocal chords and causing the horrible wrenching sound that only comes with the deepest despair. He cried for the his best friend's loss. He cried for his loss. He cried for all the times his 'father' looked upon him with disgust masked by fake affection, for all the times he suppressed the emotion he thought made him weak. He let out all the pain he had ignored from the years of torture, his other self slowly eating away at his soul and sanity until he was barely hanging on by a thread.

Vaguely he noted that the pain of the pseudo angel wings tearing through his flesh couldn't compare to the hurt he felt now. The physical scars that lay in jagged paths along his back were no where near as bad as the emotional scars inflicted on him in his young life. The torrent of tears was unrelenting, his only company the echo of his own sobs bouncing around the sparsely furnished room. Empty. White. Sterile. Devoid of all the things that would ever suggest a breathing, living being had been present.

And then the sobs subsided, only a hiccup to interrupt the silence every now and again. His red eyes itched, inflamed from the flood they had just endured. His last bit of energy had been expended and he was left feeling empty, like all his internal organs had been hollowed out like a child's Jack-o-lantern. However, this was a different kind of emptiness then he had felt before. This wasn't the emptiness that clawed at the remains of his heart, not the loneliness that had caused him to crumble. This was the emptiness that comes after you've cried all the tears you've kept dammed up for years. A flash flood of emotion that leaves the body peacefully broken. It was the numbness of letting go. His eyes wandered to the digital clock on the nightstand. It read 6:00 a.m. Slowly, as if he were unsure if his legs would support him, Satoshi pushed himself up off the floor. Stumbling into the kitchen he boiled water for tea and moved over to the window. He looked out to the few trees lining the street.

The morning sun was just peeking its shy head over the horizon as if it were an unsure child sneaking out of time out. Time passed, and the sun became more sure of itself, reclaiming its throne in the sky and spilling its brilliant rays over the city street.

He let out a shaky sigh. He was here. Broken, but alive.

And he would live.

He would honor the gift that was, from some miraculous lapse in fate's judgment, given him but denied a young man far more deserving then he. He could let go of the past. He would live for the meek morning sun, the breeze in the grass, and the occasional and fleeting recollection of a bushy redhead with the brightest smile and the most sincere laugh. He would live for the memory of who made his life worth living in the first place.

**A/N - Wow… I honestly can't tell if that came out really cheesy or really emotional. Well, I must go now for my cat has seen fit to sit on my keyboard and it's really hard to type. Reviews? 3 **


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